


Victory's Reward

by Skalidra



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gladiators, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-27 13:38:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12583088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skalidra/pseuds/Skalidra
Summary: Jason is one of the top gladiators of his master, Ra's al Ghul's, stable. When he wins an important victory he's sent a reward by the name of Tim, one of the favored slaves from the manor above. Tim's not all that happy about being given to a savage brute, but Jason's a little more than he was expecting. Maybe even enough to change his mind.





	Victory's Reward

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! So, this is Spartacus-inspired but not actually really compliant with any of it. It's really just an excuse for porn, so with that in mind I hope you enjoy it. XD 
> 
> [You can find my Tumblr here!](http://skalidra.tumblr.com/)

The guard escorts him down through the gladiator pens, warning off the men they pass with a hand on his sword and a hard look. Tim himself ignores them and the catcalls that follow, his back straight and head held high as he follows the prompts of the guard. He's not here for them. Let them look if they want to, but he owes his attention to no one but who his master commands. In this case, a victorious gladiator within the top ranks of his master's stable. He's been given to other nobles before, or slaves (to put on a show), but never a gladiator before.

He serves as ordered, despite his own _distaste_.

The gladiator in question is one of the few to have a private room with a solid door blocking access, and the guard knocks on it and calls a sharp iteration of the slave's name, "Todd!"

It opens within a moment, and Tim does his best not to let his lip curl up into a sneer. The gladiator is wearing nothing more than cloth and leather bound around his waist, leaving nearly all of his skin on display. Damp, sun-tanned skin stretched over hard muscle, with a few scars twisting ragged across his chest. Equally damp, short black hair fresh from some sort of wash, eyes the shade of the greener parts of the ocean, with a chiseled jaw and slightly crooked nose. Handsome, Tim supposes, but whatever rough attraction he may inspire is pointless in the face of being a violent brute.

"Your master sends a gift," the guard says, with a flick of his hand towards Tim. "A reward for your victory in the arena."

Todd tilts his head a bit, inclining it towards the guard with only a passing flick of his gaze over Tim's form. "An honor. Pass on my appreciation to him, please."

A brute with manners. Or one that understands the value of kissing ass when it comes to their master; he might have needed that to ever get this high in the ranks to begin with.

The guard nudges him forward with a grunt that might be confirmation, and then, "He'll be collected at the dawn. Don't damage him; he's one of the master's favored." He turns on a heel and leaves, and Tim is left alone, face to face with the gladiator he's been gifted to.

The gladiator watches the guard leave, and then shifts to the side and extends a hand in offering. "Come in?" Tim takes the invitation, stepping inside and letting his gaze flick around the room. A bed, bucket, and one small nook built into the wall with a lit candle and a few small items he can't identify. Keepsakes, maybe. Todd shuts the door. "What's your name?"

"Tim," he answers idly, before turning back to the gladiator. "And you're Todd?"

"Jason." One hand lifts, and Tim isn't interested but he takes it anyway. Obedience is everything; Ra's has enough ways to punish him that don't risk his looks. "You're very beautiful."

"I am favored by our master," Tim says, repeating the words of the guard. "If I wasn't, he wouldn't care for me."

Jason's mouth curls up at one side, and the hand clasped around his gently pulls him forward until he's in range for one heavy arm to settle around his waist. "I guess he wouldn't."

He expects the mash of lips against his own, but instead they settle against his jaw, and then shift to his neck. He tilts his head back on automatic, allowing room for Jason's lips to trail across his neck, pressing kisses down to the obstacle of his collar and then skipping over it to graze the very edge of his collarbone. Tim takes the initiative, not wanting this to last any longer than it has to. He lifts his free hand to pull loose the tie that secures the drape of linen that serves as his coverings. His back is bare anyway, but the tie comes loose from where it's hooked to his collar and the linen slides down his front, a practiced shimmy of his hips letting the weight drag it entirely to the floor.

Jason inhales sharply against his throat as Tim steps out of the puddle, shaking off his sandals as well to leave himself utterly bare apart from the delicate silver of his collar. Hidden as his expression is, with the gladiator bent down, Tim allows himself a brief roll of his eyes. He flattens his hand against Jason's chest, pushing backwards with enough pressure to get the gladiator to step back. The room is small enough it only takes two steps to 'pin' the man up against the wall, and press himself up against the front of him. The feel of the muscle is different, interesting. The dampness he is less interested in.

He slides his hand down, feeling between the layers of cloth and leather to find Jason's cock and wrap his fingers around it. He smiles as Jason gasps, back arching slightly off the wall. The hand at his waist slides around, the callouses of it catching on his skin as it strokes up his back.

" _Controlled by your cock,_ " Tim says through that smile, letting the flowing syllables of his second tongue slide between his lips. " _Just like everyone of your class._ "

Jason looks down at him, lips parted and confusion showing plain on his face. "What?" Tim squeezes the cock he has in his hand, twists his wrist as he strokes up, and that draws a small groan from the gladiator.

"Most I've slept with on command of my master have enjoyed the sound of my second tongue," he murmurs in explanation, letting his back curve under the press of the hand on it. "Do you like it—” he swaps to the other language "— _brute of a slave?_ "

The look Jason gives him is bemused, eyes just a little bit narrowed. "Yeah," is the answer, through a strangely small smile. "Go for it."

Tim smiles a little wider, lifting up on his toes to come close to Jason's ear, keeping the lower, sultry tone to his voice as he whispers, " _You're nothing but brawn. A muscled brute who happens to have some skill with a blade_." He feels the fingers on his back and hand flex, and considers biting before he decides he's not sure he wants to put any of this questionably clean skin in his mouth. " _Kill someone and your master gives you a valued slave to fuck; give you a night away from your own hand and call that a reward_."

Jason's head arches back, hips pressing forward into his hand. He gives a quiet hiss, hand releasing his to reach up and slide, almost carefully, through his hair and around to cup his skull. Tim knows that sort of a hold, it's only missing fingers curling tight into his hair. He rolls his eyes again, still carefully hidden.

" _What a surprise,_ " he continues, leaning in just enough to press a soft kiss below the gladiator's ear, " _dumb brute wants his cock sucked_."

Jason shifts against him, head tilting towards him with a small snort. Tim meets his gaze with a smile, and there's something odd in Jason's expression. Something amused and surprised and piercing all at once.

" _Would you prefer I sucked yours?_ " Jason asks, and Tim flinches sharply backwards at the familiar, matching sound of Gaulish. He stares, remembering what he's said and feeling his throat close up as he realizes that Jason _understood_.

"You're not a Gaul," is about as much as he manages, his voice coming out faint.

"No," Jason agrees, watching him, "but I know bits of lots of languages; Gaulish is my best."

Tim tries not to let his slowly growing panic show. "How?" Did Ra's know that Jason spoke Gaulish? He's always thought it was amusing when Tim mocked his noble 'friends' in a language they couldn't understand but he wouldn't put it past Ra's to put him into a trap like this, knowing that's what he does.

Jason hasn't let him go. "I've been a slave since I was a kid, to a merchant before our master bought me. I have an ear for languages, and I heard a lot of them." Jason's mouth curls in a crooked smirk, a huff of laughter escaping him. "You've got a hell of a mouth for a house slave. Doesn't the master speak Gaulish?"

He still feels frozen, and it occurs to him in that moment that he still has a hand on Jason's cock. If worst comes to worst, he can maybe just clench his hand and get himself out of the door with that hold instead of risking the threat of fists and injury. If he loses his looks… "Yes. It amuses him to listen to me mock who he gives me to. Did he know you speak it too?"

Jason will be punished for harming him, maybe killed, but if Tim's injured or disfigured… Ra's likes his mind, but he doesn't think he likes it _that_ much. He'll be sold, and the chance of finding any decent position after his looks are ruined…

"Yeah, he uses me to communicate with the other gladiators that don't speak more common tongues." Jason's hand slips from his hair, lowering to tilt his chin up with a still strangely gentle finger. "So, now that we understand each other, now what?"

He's just going to have to fall upon the blade that he's brought to his own chest. He lowers his gaze, parts his lips and allows that nervousness to show in his expression. "I apologize for my words. Please forgive—”

"Oh gods, _stop_." Tim blinks, staring, as Jason grimaces. "I think we both know you don't mean any of that, so just don't say it, okay? And I mean… I don't mind, really. I just thought it was funny." Jason leans forward, and Tim can't really do anything but continue to stare as Jason presses a soft kiss to his lips and then grins. "But I'm not a dumb brute, and I'm not ruled by my cock. Just for information."

Tim swallows. "Good to know."

Jason gives another snort, and shakes his head. The hand comes away from his chin, dropping to take his wrist and tug the hand out of his pants. "So, if you're not into sucking cock, then what's your preference? I mean, are you even into men?"

He wonders, for a moment, whether he can lie. He _probably_ can, but it might not be worth it. If Jason takes offense at any time, this could go badly. A victorious, high-ranked gladiator (who serves as a translator) has much more value than a house slave, regardless of looks or mind. "Yes," he decides to say, lifting his chin a little further to meet Jason's gaze squarely. "I can do whatever you want me to; I exist to serve who my master decides has earned it. Do what you will."

"So enthusiastic," Jason drawls, clearly sarcastic. "Alright, I get it, you're here because you were commanded to be. Message received."

It's only a moment after the second hand clasps over his waist that the grip suddenly tightens and Jason just _lifts_ him. He inhales, and automatically finds his hands flying to Jason's shoulders and his legs parting to wrap around his waist. He resists a scowl at the betrayal of a reaction, and one of Jason's hands slides up his back in support as he crosses the room with sure strides. It makes him cling tighter when Jason starts to lean down, but he never feels himself slip even a little bit as Jason, giving that same crooked grin, lays him down on the bed on his back. He can feel, as Jason presses down into him, the heat of his cock against his ass, beneath the bit of cloth covering it.

It felt… big, in his hand. Maybe bigger than anyone else he's been matched with, but then _Jason_ is bigger than any of his previous partners. Nobles and slaves don't have this kind of muscle or weight to them. He finds himself really hoping that Jason has some idea of how to do this more gently; that size could do some real damage, otherwise.

Jason's hands take his forearms, pulling loose the grip on his shoulders and then easing them down to the bed. Tim lets it happen, and it isn't a surprise to him that Jason's hands lower to what small bit of clothing he has, loosening the cloth and then pulling just far enough away to take it off entirely. It is big. Not… monstrous, or completely disproportionate, but big. Tim pulls his gaze away from it before Jason can catch him looking; he's still not interested, no matter the small thrills of arousal that the sight is sending through him. It's what his body is trained for, nothing more.

Hands slide up his thighs, parting them as Jason shifts a bit backwards, gaze for some reason still lifted to his face. Tim looks away to avoid it. That means that he's surprised for a sharp moment when suddenly there's heated warmth on his cock, and he inhales and looks back just in time to watch Jason take it between his lips. The surprised, pleasured sound bursts from his throat before he can think to restrain it, his back arching and his hands grasping downwards on impulse. One of them finds hair and he clutches at it, which results in Jason chuckling around his cock.

That's new. Nobles don't… Tim can remember someone else sucking his cock maybe twice; other slaves, and never for long or with any intention but to get him hard enough to mount. Why would a _gladiator_ do it?

Jason sinks further down onto him, mouth wet and hot and definitely not inexperienced, and Tim feels that reasoning fall right out of his mind. His legs lift, pressing in against the weight of Jason's shoulders and that, that's new too. They're broad and powerful, and they keep his legs spread much wider than he's used to. It's a bizarrely thrilling feeling. Or maybe that's just that Jason is sucking him.

One hand slides up his chest, fingers sliding along the planes of it until they reach one of his nipples. Tim doesn't realize he's expecting a pinch — it makes him squirm; nobles love when he squirms — until the pad of a thumb rubs over it instead. It's a good, softer sort of pleasure and it pulls a gasp from his throat, his chest pushing up into the touch before he's given it permission to. He curls his fingers a little tighter into Jason's hair, and that prompts a hum of sound that makes his eyes flicker shut.

" _Gods_ ," he breathes, shuddering.

Jason sucks harder for a moment, enough to make him cry out, before slowly sliding off. He looks down when he can summon the control necessary to, and Jason presses a kiss to his wrist and smiles up at him. "There's a jar of oil under the bed; grab it for me?"

It's… _hard_ , to make himself move that much, but he does. He lets go of Jason's hair, twisting his torso until he can reach over the side of the bed, feeling blindly for the jar. His fingers brush something ceramic and he grabs it, pulling it up. It's lidded, bound shut, and Jason takes it with a crooked grin when he hands it over. That's followed by a graze of teeth across the inside of his thigh, and the setting of the jar off to the side. He peers at it, wondering why Jason isn't immediately opening it to prepare him, before there's a kiss to the hollow of his hip.

"I'm not big on rushing things," Jason says against his skin, answering his question before he can voice it. "And by the way? You are welcome to pull my hair if you want to."

That's about all the warning he gets before Jason takes his cock back in. He does pull, without ever giving his hands conscious permission to do so. His eyes fall shut, his feet pushing against the bed and tangling in the cover on it as he moans, his hips easily held to the bed with the flat strength of a hand pressed to one side.

It’s been a long time since he’s come to release as quickly as Jason brings him, too used to finding pleasure in the proprietary and selfish touches of other nobles and having to push himself to show that they’ve ‘pleased’ him. When he feels that rush curling in his stomach, there’s a sudden burst of fear that he’ll upset the gladiator over him with the lack of control. His fingers clench down in Jason’s hair, his mouth parting to breathe in a sharp gasp and his thighs pressing in on the shoulders between them.

“ _Jason_ , I—” He falters on how to say it, how to keep it a praise of skill and not any sort of demand that Jason stop.

But before he can figure it out Jason pulls away anyway, looking up at him with warm blue eyes and a lazy smirk. Tim tries to gain back some small bit of control, panting and forcing himself to loosen his grip on Jason’s hair. Jason pushes up, moving easily even against the pressure of his legs to climb up over him, and the pure muscle of him makes Tim swallow and shiver. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to Tim’s jaw, and then lowers with a carefulness that seems contradictory to his clear strength. The arm braced by his head bends until it’s resting on its elbow, the fingers of that hand brushing his cheek and then cupping the side of his skull to tilt him in for a press of lips closer to his mouth.

He doesn’t realize the other hand is reaching for his cock until it circles around it, and he gasps in shock and jerks, his back arching as his eyes squeeze shut. One of his grasping hands finds the solid weight of Jason’s forearm, and he clings to it as that hand strokes him. It’s not the best touch he’s ever felt, but with how close to the edge he still is that hardly matters. It only takes perhaps the span of a minute before he’s trembling, digging his nails into Jason’s arm and arching his throat back as he comes apart with a cry of pleasure and strain.

The hand pulls away from his cock, swiping through some of the mess on his stomach, and he opens his eyes as he parts his mouth in preparation for the incoming fingers. That… don’t come. Instead, Jason licks it from his own fingers, and Tim stares right up until he gets a small grin that startles him out of it.

Jason leans down over him, lips finding his temple and then the skin just in from his ear. “You really are beautiful,” he murmurs, shifting back to meet his eyes again. “Pretty sure I’m going to remember just what that looks like for a long time.”

“Going to get off thinking of me?” Tim asks before he thinks about it, his voice coming out breathy and quiet between his heightened breathing.

The laugh that Jason gives is equally low, warm and in the midst of a curling grin. “Oh yeah, definitely. I’m sure I’m not the only one; I can’t imagine getting to see you like this and then just _forgetting_.”

It feels like his tongue has run away without the rest of his mind following, because it isn’t until he’s actually said, “Maybe you’re just not accustomed to the finer things in life,” that he realizes how much of an insult it is. He swallows, tries not to show the thrill of nervousness that tightens his chest as he remembers, again, that Jason is more valuable to their master than he is.

But Jason just laughs again, shaking his head and then lowering it to press briefly against his shoulder. “Got me there.”

He relaxes, and when Jason tilts up and actually, properly kisses him he eases into it. Faint bitterness and all; it’s not a taste he minds, at this point.

Still, when Jason pulls back with a soft sound of pleasure, Tim can’t quite help but ask, “Are you actually going to fuck me or not?” He can feel the hard heat of Jason’s cock against his thigh, and he knows the jar of oil is still on the bed, but this is not going anything like he expected and he doesn’t know what to _do_ with that.

The question draws an inelegant snort from Jason, before he’s given an almost bemused look. “That was the intention, yeah. Is that something you actually _like_ or something you just endure for your master?”

Tim’s automatic reaction is to lie, to reassure and flatter that of _course_ he does, but a moment after that he realizes that the lie _is_ the truth, at least to an extent. “I do,” he answers slowly, and then glances downwards. He can just barely see the heft of that cock from this angle, and it’s still… intimidating. “If proper care is taken.”

Jason seems to get it pretty much instantly, because his expression hardens a bit. Turns serious, intense in a way that Tim can’t help but swallow beneath. “I won’t hurt you,” is the low promise, and there’s such serious sincerity there that Tim can’t help but believe it.

That _would_ fit this whole strange direction to things, wouldn’t it?

He breathes in and gives a slow nod. "Alright."

Jason's expression eases back into a smile, and with one more lingering kiss, tongue teasing at his, pulls back to twist around and reach for the oil. The binding around it comes off easily, and the familiar smell of olive oil reaches Tim's nose as Jason dips his fingers into the small jar. He stretches out to reach off the side of the bed and set it back down on the floor. Tim spreads his legs with maybe a bit more eagerness than he has in a while, and Jason gives a crooked smile as he stretches back out at Tim's side and reaches between his legs with the oiled hand.

As the first finger slides into him, Tim dares to reach up with one hand and slide it through Jason's short hair, curling his fingers into the strands and pulling him down into a kiss. True to his word, Jason is thorough in preparing him. Slow enough that the heat starts to build in him once again, and towards the end Tim nearly asks for Jason to just _get on with it_ because the fingers are just not enough and he wants _more_. He bites down on it though, and on Jason's bottom lip — before it can even occur to him that it might not be a good idea — and that gets him a thick groan and a small roll of hips against his thigh.

Jason's fingers slide from him just a few moments later, slowly, before he pushes up and slides over him, hand bracing against the bed beside Tim's head to keep him raised. For a moment Tim clings to the grip he has in Jason’s hair, but as his legs are coaxed to spread open and make way he lets his fingers slide free and down to grip one bicep instead. His hand won’t fit around it, and he swallows again, shivers and closes his eyes for a moment.

When he opens them Jason is looking down at him, and softly asks, “Is this alright?”

He honestly doesn’t know if Jason is asking about the whole thing, or if he’s ready, or the position, but regardless the answer is the same.

“Yes,” he murmurs back, and pushes himself to prove it by lifting his legs and pressing them in on either side of the hips between his.

Jason smiles, and pulls back just enough to get a hand between them. He looks down for a moment, most likely pinpointing the right angle, but his gaze lifts to Tim again before he actually pushes forward. Tim’s breath catches at the blunt pressure, but it’s an easy, practiced thing to relax everything necessary to allow the invasion. Jason _is_ big, he can feel it, but also careful. Before he’s more than what must be a couple inches in he begins to rock in gentle thrusts, easing in bit by bit until finally Tim feels the brush of hair against his skin and knows that Jason is fully in him.

At some point his eyes had fallen shut, both hands gripping Jason’s arms with maybe more force than he should. He can feel the faint tremble in them, and when he pries his eyes open Jason’s are the ones closed, brow drawn into a strained furrow and teeth closed on his own bottom lip. He’s surprised how much that expression appeals to him.

He slides his hands up Jason’s arms, cupping both sides of his face and letting his fingertips curl into black hair. Jason’s eyes flicker open, and Tim can see how his chest suddenly rises in a sharp breath before it’s overtaken by another small tremble of muscle. Restraint, and that realization sends another swell of heat spiraling down Tim’s spine. He _likes_ how this feels. He genuinely, really, is enjoying this encounter. That’s… not at all what he expected to happen.

He gives a small nod to signal his acceptance, as he lifts his legs a little further and wraps them around Jason’s waist to hold on a little more securely. Jason groans, gaze hazing over slightly as his hips push forward despite the lack of anywhere to go. Tim answers it with a small arch of his back, getting himself a better grip in Jason’s hair and resisting, for the moment, the urge to pull him down and replace the teeth in that lip with his own. He’s enjoying Jason’s expression too much.

“You sure?” Jason breathes, gaze fixing on his as he asks. “You’re good?”

Tim almost laughs, because yeah, he’s a little bit better than ‘good’ right now. Instead, he lets his mouth curl into a small smirk and answers, honestly, “I could use a little less restraint on your part.” Jason looks starkly surprised, and Tim’s mouth runs off with him. “I mean there have to be _some_ benefits to fucking a gladiator, and from what I’ve heard the whole ‘intense passion’ thing is supposed to be one of them. And the strength. The other slaves talk.”

Jason’s head dips, pressing to the bed beside Tim’s head as he starts to laugh, the force of it shaking his shoulders slightly. Tim blinks, turning his head to look. Jason’s expression is somewhat hidden against the bed, but he can still see the edge of a grin. He watches it for a few moments before Jason calms the laughter, turning in a sudden rush to kiss him instead, pressing him down into the bed and sliding a tongue between his lips. He’s slow to react, a little startled, but falling into familiar paths is easy enough. Jason isn't the best kisser Tim’s ever experienced, but he’s not bad and not shoving the tongue down his throat, and that makes it good enough for him to enjoy.

“Strength, huh?” Jason asks when their connection finally breaks, mouth still curved into a grin. Smaller now, but Tim can see the warm amusement in his eyes as well; it’s real. “Alright, I can do that.”

The hand resumes its braced point beside his head, and the other falls down to grip one of Tim’s hips, lifting them a couple inches off the bed to an angle that lets Jason get his knees a bit further underneath him. Tim takes in a deeper breath, anticipation joining the heat pooled in his stomach for a sharp moment before Jason begins to move.

It isn’t as immediately hard as he expected. Instead, Jason watches him through a first couple of thrusts that are deep but somewhat slow. The angles shift, and Tim recognizes the intent without having to ask, his mouth curling in a smile as he waits for Jason to find the right angle to bring him the greatest pleasure. Considerate; he probably needs that extra edge if he’s going to come again.

He huffs out a breath when Jason finds it, his back curving in a gentle arch as his lips part. Jason makes a satisfied noise, and the next thrust has some of that storied power behind it, sliding against him with more force and driving a soft moan from his throat. That seems to be all the confirmation that Jason needs.

Tim clings tighter as Jason’s thrusts pick up in speed and power, body rolling in a smooth curve of movement with each back and forth slide. Despite the grip of his thighs around Jason’s waist, and the fingers curled tight in his hair, not for a moment does Tim think he has any real control in the position. He’s pinned under the press of Jason leaning over him, helpless in a very physical way, and he thinks maybe it’s the first time he’s actually gotten a thrill out of the sensation. The other slaves weren’t lying about gladiators, even with Jason’s consideration there’s a wild, _savage_ edge to all of this that Tim’s starting to find intoxicating. It’s just so different, so _raw_. (Nothing like forcing a moan to his lips and arching his back for the slap of noble hips against his.)

He grabs for Jason’s back with one of his hands, his head tilting back as he moans with more feeling. Jason is breathing hard above him, and Tim can feel the bunch and release of muscle as his hand splays over the back of Jason’s shoulder. His hand curls at a particularly well directed thrust, scraping his nails over the skin beneath them, and Jason jerks a little bit and groans, head dipping. Tim blinks, confused for just a moment before his mind links the actions; he’s been doing this a long time and his instincts are rarely off.

He shifts his hand, watching with as much focus as he can muster, and scrapes his nails over that fresh patch of skin.

Another groan, and then Jason gives a breathless laugh and a small shake of his head. “You do that, I’m not going to last,” is the strained warning, fingers contracting on his thigh for a moment.

It takes Tim a couple of thrusts to get together enough breath to answer. “Do you need to?”

Jason falters for a brief moment, but falls back into rhythm the next with a huff of breath and a crooked grin. “I’d _like_ to. Seems rude to leave you high and dry.”

“ _Again?_ ” is about all the question Tim can muster before he has to moan, clinging tight until that particular wave of pleasure passes and he can focus again. “You already got me off once.”

“So what?” Jason’s grin widens just a little, body lowering till he can catch Tim in a shallow kiss, teasing his lips with a gentle scrape of teeth. “Maybe I like seeing my partners in pleasure.”

Tim stares for a moment, but then shakes his head a tiny bit and lets the matter go. “Well I’m not going to complain.” But, privately, he also doesn’t think he’s going to stop. The groans he get when he scratches are maybe a little too pleasing to hold back on account of getting to come a _second_ time. Plus, he’s now pretty sure that Jason will finish him off either way, so it might be fun to test his limits.

The first rake of his nails gets a startled moan and then a laugh, but Jason doesn’t call him out on it. Instead, Jason shifts lower onto his braced hand, catching him in a kiss that’s really more a messy joining of tongues and shared breaths. The hand slips off of his thigh, leaving the wrap of his legs around Jason’s waist to support the position, and he barely has time to wonder where it’s going before it wraps around his cock. It’s his turn to give a startled moan, his neck arching back and breaking the kiss. Jason’s mouth finds his throat instead, pressing surprisingly soft kisses down the line of it even as he digs his nails in and tightens the grip of his thighs. His back is the next thing to arch, at a particularly good combination of a thrust and the twist of Jason’s hand around him.

He doesn’t have the attention to spare for more than just hanging on and enjoying the ride. At some point he manages to lower his head enough to get another kiss, but that’s about the extent of what he tries for. It doesn’t seem to bother Jason, and it definitely doesn’t impede his rush towards completion.

The pleasure builds at the base of his spine. Jason’s thrusts grow a little sharper, small trembles shaking his muscles and joining those thrusts as signs that Tim is intimately familiar with. However close he is, Jason is coming right along with him.

Jason is actually the one that tips over first, thrusts growing ragged and slightly disjointed as he fucks into him. Tim watches with lidded eyes as Jason’s breath starts coming hard and shaky, until he jerks and lifts his head enough to release a shout safely away from Tim’s ear. Tim trembles through the last few thrusts as Jason rides it out, both of them panting at nearly the same pace and with the hand around his cock still somehow keeping time. Jason’s barely stilled, still hot and hard within him for the moment, head lowering to press a kiss to his throat, before Tim feels the coil in his gut finally snap.

He clings to Jason’s hair and back, eyes squeezing shut as he cries out and arches up against his weight, bucking into the hand around him with what little movement his hips are capable of pinned like they are. It shakes him, blanks out his mind for several glorious, white moments before the intensity eases and he starts to come down again.

His grip is the first thing to loosen, and then his thighs around the mass of Jason’s waist. He keeps his eyes closed as he breathes, enjoying the press of lips trailing kisses up his neck until they finally meet his actual lips and he can shift to reciprocate.

It’s a slow, lazy thing that Tim finds himself thoroughly appreciative of, and when it ends Jason pulls back and away from his now soft grips. He opens his eyes, watching as Jason shifts back far enough to pull out of him with a shudder (he’s too used to the sensation to match it) before moving to lay down at his side and stretch out with a groan. Tim rolls over, pressing himself up against Jason’s side and lifting his head enough that he can pillow it on one shoulder. It pretty much forces Jason’s arm to come back down around his back and shoulders, but he’s alright with that.

“That was pretty good,” he praises, shutting his eyes again to luxuriate in the afterglow still humming through his bones.

There’s a heavy snort from beside him. “Glad to hear I pass with such flying colors,” is the dry response.

Tim rolls his eyes even though he keeps them shut, almost snorting himself but holding the reaction in check. “It was probably the best sex I’ve had in a long time; does that make your pride sting a little less?” His tone is sharper than he should probably use, and sarcastic on top of that, but he can’t find it in him to be very cautious. Jason hasn’t taken offense to anything yet.

True to form, all he gets is a small laugh in response. There’s a shift of muscle underneath where his head’s pillowed, and then fingers trace the curve of his jaw down to rest a thumb lightly on his bottom lip. He opens his eyes to find Jason looking down at him as much as the angles allow; he gives a small, crooked smile when Tim meets his eyes.

“You really do have one hell of a mouth on you,” Jason comments, just shy of a whisper.

Tim blinks, unsure of exactly how to respond. Habit takes over. “You haven’t felt even half of it,” he says with his own smile, opening his mouth just enough to dip down a half inch and take just the tip of Jason’s thumb between his lips.

Jason's eyes darken a bit, gaze focusing on the flicker of his tongue and the capture of his thumb. There's a thick swallow, a shallow breath. "No, but I've heard a lot."

The thumb slips free of his mouth, hand cupping the side of his cheek for Jason to curl in and brush lips as far down as he can get, about at his cheek. Tim leans up the last couple inches to actually make the kiss happen, and it's soft and brief in a way that Tim can't remember being kissed in… a long time. It's nice. Jason stays close, breath brushing his face as he lingers, eyes staying shut for a few still moments. Tim watches him for those moments, studying the ease of his expression and the little crook in the line of his nose.

Even before Jason's eyes open his mouth curls into a small grin, and there's a small amused noise that escapes his throat. "I think I like what I hear more than what I've felt."

The blush takes Tim completely by surprise, and he blinks, lips pressing together as he stares upwards. That's… not something he's heard before. Maybe ever. Unless Ra's appreciating his mind counts, but Ra's usually tells him that when he's mostly naked and about to perform for him and it just… Jason's words _feel_ different. He believes them more. He also doesn't know how to respond to them.

He swallows, feeling that blush blazing on his cheeks as he dips his gaze. "I've… had a good time," he admits, just as quietly as Jason's been speaking. "Thank you."

He's not sure what he's expecting, but it's not for Jason to laugh and tug him a little closer with the arm around his shoulders. "Had?" he's asked, and Tim looks up with a bit of surprise as Jason grins down at him. "I'm pretty sure that guard said something about dawn. So unless you _want_ to leave…”

He… _did_ , didn't he?

Tim feels something in his chest warm, and he gives a little startled, pleased huff of breath as his mouth curls into a smile. "Yeah, I think he did. Well, in that case, what were you thinking about doing for the rest of the night?"

"Choices, choices. I don't know, did you have some ideas?"

He tips his head back a little further, leaning into the support of Jason's arm and letting his smile become a grin. "I can probably come up with one or two things."

Jason kisses him again, lingering longer in this one and cupping the side of his face with a little more purpose and tangling the very edges of his fingers into his hair. Tim lets one of his hands come up to rest on Jason's chest, spreading his fingers right over the center of it to feel the sturdiness of muscle beneath his palm. He can feel the thud of Jason's heart, steady and strong. It feels entirely natural to slide his top leg over Jason's closer one and shift up to make the angle easier and let Jason's hand slide further into his hair, sliding to hold the back of his skull and hold it up.

Tim takes a deep breath when Jason pulls back, leaning into the touch and enjoying it in a way he usually doesn't get the chance to.

"Maybe," Jason starts, "if you're not sick of me by the morning, I could try and do well enough to earn another reward? See you again?"

He opens his eyes, and for once doesn't feel at all wary about showing his pleasure at the idea.

"I think I'd like that."


End file.
